Someone New

Chapter Thirteen

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping that the harder I squeeze, the less I will feel. A knock sounds from my front door, and I stop squeezing. I make no move to get up - I'm not in any mood to talk to anybody, especially if the knock is coming from Ashley, my nosy neighbor. She only stops by to gossip about the apartment complex, and right now, I couldn't care less.

The knock comes again, and I roll onto my side. Maybe if I ignore it long enough, they'll go away. After a moment, my door knob rattles, and the door squeaks open. I guess I forgot to lock it. Hopefully it's not a serial killer.

"Lexi? Are you okay?"

I sigh and open my eyes. What is Misha doing here?

He fills the doorframe of my bedroom, looking concerned.  "Lexi, what's going on? Why aren't you at work?"

"I don't feel good," I shrug, before turning my attention back to the muted episode of Grey's Anatomy that's playing.

The bed depresses next to me, and I look over at Misha. His expression is unreadable.

"So you called in?"

I nod, not feeling up to an actual conversation.

"Did you go to class this morning?"

"Cancelled."

"Oh."

I can tell he's at a loss. He slides down the bed and wraps his arms around me. "God, you're really warm. Have you taken anything yet?"

Warm? That's great. The last thing I need on top of warring emotions is to actually be sick. I shake my head in response to his question. He gets up and enters my bathroom, shuffling around for a while. When he returns, he hands me a thermometer.

"Here."

I sigh and stick it under my tongue, and we wait for it to beep. He takes the stick from me and reads the result. "Lex, you're at 101.2. Do you want some Tylenol or something?"

I shake my head again and burrow further into my blankets. At least now I know that it's not just my emotions making me feel like shit.

Another knock sounds from the front door, and Misha gets up to answer it. A minute later, he comes back carrying a vase of pink and white Gerber daisies. I inwardly groan, anticipating the shit that is about to hit the fan.

"You got flowers," he awkwardly states. After a moment, he asks, "Are they from Cassidy or something?"

"No." I close my eyes. Please don't be from Dakota. Please don't be from Dakota. I know they are, but some part of me is hoping I'm wrong, that somebody else in this world would send me the same stupid flowers that he used to send me.

"There's an envelope with it, addressed to Alexandria Woodley," he clarifies. When I don't respond, he slowly begins to open it, watching me as he painstakingly pulls out the card inside.

"'Dear Lexi, it was great to see you again. I'm forever grateful for your company and your emotional honesty. I've included another chance for us to see each other. Please consider it. DW.'"

Misha's voice is cold by the end of the note, and he pulls out a second document.

"'Together with their families, Emily Lisette Rivas and Dakota Austin Walker request the pleasure of your company as they exchange marriage vows on December 31 at the Maywood Country Club.'"

I don't move. I don't speak. I simply clench the blanket by my chin into my fist, awaiting some form of response from my boyfriend.

When he finally speaks again, his voice is low. "What the hell, Lexi?"